Reconciliation in the Never After
by SallyJetson
Summary: How far would you go to save the one you loved?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I'm not sure where I'm going with this one so ...

**Reconciliation in the Never After**

"Linds, yeah, it's me. He brought her in."

"_How is he?"_

"Bad, Linds real bad. Still tripping out on guilt," yanking the coat off the back of the office chair, twirling it above his head, spearing an arm through a sleeve, "Couple years ago I might have expected something like this but …,"

"_But what?"_

Switching the cell to his other ear, "Look, you gotta talk to him."

"_I can't, I mean I've tried … he shuts me out every time."_

Spearing the other arm through and pushing through the precinct doors, "Well all I know is for the past couple years he's been towing the mark, keeping his nose clean and –"

"_Don, it hasn't been good between us since Ruben –"_

"Linds, I've been on his ass all day long," waving down a taxi, sliding into the backseat, "and I've gotten nowhere and now he's gone off half-cocked again – hang on a sec."

Pressing the phone to his chest, "See that Harley, I want you to follow it. Don't let it out of your sight. There's an extra fifty in it for you if you can keep it in your sights." Pressing the phone back to his ear, "Linds, you still there?

"_I'm still here."_

I'm in a cab tailing him. Where are you?

_"At my apartment."_

Okay get a cab and then call me back. I should have a better idea of where he's heading then.

"_I'm on my way downstairs now."_

-----------------

Taxis released, their eyes resting on the Harley, riderless, but still steaming from the hard drive. Eyes rivet upward by the squawk of a sign swinging in the chill breeze.

"Timpone's – Pint and Slice. You know this place, Don?"

"No, you?"

"No"

Pivoting, leaning back against the bricks, turning his collar up, cramming his hands deep into his pockets, inching his chin deeper into his coat, "I better stay out here," willing to take the chill over the heat this time, "but if you need me …"

Squeezing his arm, quelling trepidation with a cleansing breath, "Thanks Don, but it's my turn now."

------------------

Simple wooden booths line the narrow space along one brick wall, austerity mixed with rich, and delicious aromas slipping from pizza ovens lining the opposite wall. A bar, surrounding the ovens, guarding them, as well as the rack of well stocked liquor bottles.

Alone, at the end of the bar, a drink already in his hands, the brooding patron amongst the crowd.

"Danny"

Choking, "Montana?" looking at her but only briefly, "What the hell? How'd you find me?" his eyes latching back onto his drink.

Shrugging, sliding in between the bar stools, sitting sideways, noting every angle of his profile, the hair awry, the two-day old stubble hugging his jaw, the sagging droop of his eyelids almost meeting the swelling bags under his eyes.

Gripping the glass a little tighter causing it to shift and slosh, "Oh, I get it that bastard of a mother hen, Flack," throwing back a swallow, thumping the glass down, sloshing again.

Hoping to create a connection and broach a topic she knew everything about but felt wholly inadequate to discuss, she laid a hand on his arm. "We just want to help, Danny."

"Well in that case," flipping her hand off his arm as he raised it into the air, bobbing his head towards Lindsay, "Dino, she'll have what I'm having."

Dino flicked a cool glance at Lindsay as he set the drink in front her, "Smoothest scotch around but best when savored slowly," looking pointedly at Danny then back at her. "Know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean, thanks."

"Mind your own business, Dino."

"I am minding my business, Messer."

Staring into the glass, swirling it, stalling, fully aware of how her body revolts against scotch, regardless of how smooth it is. "Danny, I understand what you're going through."

Throwing back the remainder, shaking his head, issuing an exaggerated smack and a sigh, hailing it high into the air. "Dino, another … actually make it a double."

Pushing her glass away, drawing her bar stool closer to him, trying again. "Danny, I … I … know you feel Ruben's death is your fault … that … that it's wrong that you survived and he didn't, but it –"

"It what?" Rebelliously blank eyes framed by a mocking sneer, "It isn't my fault?"

"I know you think it is but you can't let that drive you, I know, I've been there."

Dino replacing the empty glass with the double scotch.

"No, you haven't … not like I have."

"Yes- I- have! You know I have. My friends were murdered – right in front of me – and I couldn't do a thing to save them!"

"Dammit, you were just a kid; there was nothing you could have done." Suddenly standing, thrusting the stool out behind him, fingers spread eagled across his chest. "Don't you see the difference? I'm an adult, a police officer, his friend, he trusted me. Dammit, his mother trusted me. And now he's gone."

His eyes holding hers, her mouth cottoning and her throat lumping, his words drifting around them, settling the issue in the presence of her silence. Reaching for his double scotch, tossing it back with abandon, sliding the glass back onto the bar, turning and striding toward the door.

Her voice out of commission but not her feet, she catches him, outside, astride his Harley, turning the key.

"Danny, wait!"

Gunning the engine, blocking her plea.

Desperate, no Flack in sight, the element of surprise playing to her advantage, reaching between the handle bars, turning the key and yanking it out.

"Dammit, give that back to me," demanding in his scotch soaked voice.

Stepping back, holding it high above her head, hardly knowing what to do with the upper hand, breath trapped in her throat.

"No"

"This isn't a game, Lindsay," suddenly and surprisingly calm.

"You're damn right it isn't a game, Danny," returning with equal levity.

Dropping his head, staring at his hands and nodding.

Swaying in the moment of peace, exhaling a breath held too long, "Enough is enough, Danny. All you can think about is yourself, because that is how guilt is," taking a step in as the hand safeguarding the keys falls to her shoulder, "It eats you up from the inside, leaving nothing for anyone on the outside …" a plea softening her voice, "but you have to begin to step away from that."

His eyes slide sideways as his hands run up and down his thighs in readiness. She reads the feint; he's quick but she's quicker, tossing the keys before he grabs her wrist. The keys clank between the sewer grate, their subsequent plinks echoing their increasing inaccessibility.

Yanking her close, the snarl on his face curling his lip, hawking his nose, "Damn you! Is this what you want to be close to? Look at me!"

Not only looking but challenging, "I'm looking. What do you want to show me?"

Rummaging around in the pockets of his leather jacket, flashing a glint of silver, "This," slipping it into the ignition, releasing her wrist, gunning the engine as Flack rounds the corner of the building, calling out, "Everything okay?"

_Things are not okay._

There are times when the body reacts to an idea even before it becomes a conscious thought. Astride the Harley as it lurches forward, hands gripping the slick leather of his jacket, she realizes this as one of those moments. She's going to go the distance for him.

By going the distance with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Wow! I'm overwhelmed and humbled by the response, both the reviews and the alerts. Thank you very much.

**Reconciliation in the Never After**

On the backs of dirt bikes and four-wheelers behind brothers and boyfriends, sometimes at the helm herself, mile long wheat fields whipping by as a mile high Montana sky capped their flight. Bugs in your teeth, wild hair and wipe outs on soft dirt roads were half for the exhilaration and half for the rite of passage.

But this isn't that.

This is bulleting through a concrete labyrinth, neon signs blurring beyond recognition, eyes slitting closed from needle sharp rain driven by a relentless wall of wind, arms wound tightly around the waist of a grief stricken and guilt ridden man with a signed death warrant in his hands, a signed death warrant possibly for both of them.

And in this moment all she can do is hang on and pray. Pray that his emotions will play out before the wheels slide out from underneath them, pavement scouring away their skin as easily as the meat falls from the bone of a stewed, Sunday dinner chicken, impact cracking skull and splintering bone like a stick man at the mercy of a wrecking ball.

But before she hits the third repetition of her prayers, everything is spinning, forcing consciousness from her mind and then it is still and dark, rain pattering softly against her face gently waking her from a dreamless sleep. Eyes opening, staring at the Aurora Borealis, focusing, no, it's only city lights reflecting off the belly of moisture laden clouds.

"Oh my God, Danny." Scrambling to her hands and knees, crawling past the tangle of metal, whose only life is a lazily spinning wheel, "What have you done? Danny!"

--------------

"Yeah, Messer, what have you done this time?"

"Who me? Why is it always on me?"

"Typical, Messer. See that's the thing about you, you got it all backwards."

"Backwards? I'm backwards. What are you talking about … Aiden? Shit! Aiden!"

"She's right, bro. You always did do things backwards when I was around."

"Louie? What the hell? Now this is backwards. You guys are dead. You shouldn't even be here."

"We shouldn't be here? Take a look around, Messer."

Aiden's sting, backslapping him into reality a spilt second too late, feeling an other-worldly lift in his mesentery, panning the fading surroundings, white becoming the only backdrop, no bike, no street, no rain, no bridge,

_And_ _no Lindsay. _

"Oh no, no this ain't happening to me." Palms pressing tightly to either side of his shaking head as if to dissipate the mocking spirits surrounding him, "This is one of those dreams that seem so real that you think you're awake but you're not."

"Look man, it ain't a fuckin' dream," Louie growls, one bony finger pointing downward through the infinite white.

"Yeah, do you see that down there?" Aiden cuts in, "Do you see her, crying her eyes out over you? You know I was beginning to think you'd measure up to her, but after –"

"Where? I can't see a damn thing – except white! Is Lindsay crying? Goddammit Louie, Aiden, tell me what's going on!"

Sighing at the incompetency, "Louie, I can't believe you forgot again, and you've been up here – how long?"

"Aiden, now ain't the time, sorry Danny, here you go," slicing a hand through the air in front of Danny's face, "Now do you see?"

--------------

"Oh my God, Don. Hurry, over here!"

"Linds are you okay?" chop rock spraying in protest of his slithering stop, dropping to his knees beside her.

"I think so. But it's Danny! He's got a weak pulse but he's not responding. What am I going to do? This is my fault. I pushed him off balance," sliding a trembling hand under his head, palpitating gently.

"Linds, get a hold of yourself, this wasn't your fault, not by a long shot. He had already unbalanced himself," flipping open his phone, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Flack … man down, we need a bus … Manhattan side of the Brooklyn Bridge … yeah, but off duty … do me a favor keep that close, okay?"

"Alright, help is on the way but in the meantime I need you to keep talking to him," sliding his arms out of his jacket, tenting it around her shoulders, "Keep him with us, okay?"

"Don, I can't do this again, I can't … do this again, once in a lifetime is enough. I thought I … I …," staring at the blood caking her hand as she pulls it from beneath his head, "Don, look … his blood," recoiling, "_you_ have to do it," rising from the pavement, her bloodied handing remaining trapped within her sight.

"Linds, this is nothing …" hating to invoke the images but using every trick at his disposal, "nothing compared to what you've seen before."

"But Danny is-"

"Yeah I know …he's someone you love, but that is exactly why he needs _you_."

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"Lindsay, what have I done to you sweetheart? Jesus Christ, it's a miracle she doesn't have a scratch on her." Turning to Aiden and Louie, "Do you see that? Thank God!"

"It's about time!" Aiden directs an open palm to the back of his head while Louie folds his arms across his chest, slouching into himself, shaking his head.

"You guys trying to tell me something here?"

Mirroring shrugs, "Not us," Aidan replies, uncharacteristically reverent.

"You tell me, Danny. You've got one cop putting his career on the line and the other putting her life in danger – for you. Either, you're just one lucky sonofabitch," Louie flips the telltale lock of hair back off his forehead, eyes sliding the same direction, "or someone up here really likes you."

"Here? Where's here?" spinning around, throwing an arm across his eyes to block the glare. "You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me."

"I ain't."

"Is that the …" chancing a peek from under his arm.

"Can you believe it, Messer?"

"the … Big White Gate?"

Nodding in unison at his revelation.

"But I don't want to be here meetin' St Peter!"

"Are you sure about that, man?"

"He's right, Messer, that's not how you've been playing it lately, especially tonight."

"I … I … come on, you know what's been going on down there, I mean about Ruben and Rikki and …"

"But Danny, Ruben, Rikki, they're not your fault … but that mess down there now. That one _is_ your fault. Just look at it."

"I can't look."

"Come on man, you really want to sentence her to live through another death that isn't her fault. You off all people should understand what that feels like now."

"No, no, that's not what I want."

"Then get your ass back in gear and get back down there, Messer."

"How?"

"Louie, will take care of it, won't you Louie?"

"Ain't we suppose to wait until-"

"Louie, Aiden, what's that noise?"

"What noise? Messer, check your ears, I don't hear a noise," Aiden hissing, "Do it Louie, now, before-"

"Stop!" ducking beneath Louie's hand, avoiding the charm of the hand slice through the air, "I know that sound, it's a bike bell."

-----------------

"Don!" her voice pealing frantically through the night air, "There's no pulse!"

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**A/N: **Oh and there's a song title somewhere in this chapter. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Again thank you for both the reviews and the alerts, they've been overwhelming. This is the final chapter.

**Reconciliation in the Never After**

A clash of noises, auditory pollution, a natural byproduct of any busy and prosperous city. Noises he'd heard all his life but paid little attention to because they weren't relevant to him. Noises that included bells. Bells clanging and janging, dinging and donging, pealing and chiming. Bells prompting punctuality, announcing beginnings, celebrating joinings, mourning passings, bellowing triumphants and wailing warnings. None of which meant much to him … until now.

Now, the tinny ringing is dopplering, four per cycle: strong, stronger, strongest, then fading, wheels tracking in a circle, a bell he knows, a bell that calls to him, draws him to right a wrong, to say a goodbye never said.

Swallowing the lump, "That's Ruben's bike bell," eyes filling at the innocent melody, "I gave it to him when he got his bike so he could be safe … let pedestrians know when he was coming up on them," squinting against the glare of the Big White Gate, searching, "Ruben, where are you?"

-----------------

"Lindsay, I'm right here. Give him two breaths and I'll start chest compressions."

Pinching and puffing, his nose and lips so cold, cold that seeps backwards, chilling her.

Lacing fingers together, pressing, forcing blood to travel through the veins, "Come- on- Messer-, you- sonofabitch-," hands poised, waiting, voice commanding, "Two breaths, Lindsay."

-----------------

"It's Ruben, I know it is. I gotta talk to him, tell him how much I miss him, you know say goodbye, give him a hug."

"No, you can't touch him."

"What are you saying? Why?"

"Because-"

Aiden elbowing, "C'mon Louie, do it!"

"Cool it Aiden, he deserves to know."

"Know what?"

"No, it will just screw things up because he'll let his emotions get the best of him."

"Screw it up or not, everyone deserves a second chance to set things right, ain't that right, Danny?"

"Yeah, yeah that's right Louie. You understand. I wanna make it right with Ruben."

"You're on your own; I can't be a part of this."

"Fine Aiden, have it your way but you know you'll have to answer to _him_ if you bail now. We have strict instructions-"

"Since when did you care so much about following instructions?"

"Enough, you two! Just fuckin' tell me. Why can't I touch him?"

"Because it will break the time suspension."

"Time suspension?"

"Yeah, right now Ruben exists only in one finite moment but that moment is infinite."

"Wait, wait, wait, hang on," fingers sliding up under glasses, pinching, willing understanding, "Why?"

"To protect him from knowing the circumstances that brought him here. It is our, I mean _his_ way of protecting the innocent – those who've come here before their time"

"And me touching him will break that … that time suspension? Oh I get it. 'Cause it was my fault he ended up here. I fuckin' knew it."

"Calm down, Messer, you egotistical ass! It isn't always about you and your misplaced guilt."

"She's right, it ain't your fault he's here – that's actually on someone else's shoulders," flinty eyes sparking at the coming disclosure, "It's because you ain't completely one of us yet. You're still a _living._"

"Hell, I don't even know what a _living_ is. Can't I just talk to him even if I can't touch him? At least tell him how much I miss him? How sorry I am?"

"Sure, Messer, but he won't see or hear you."

"Ok, ok I get it. Then Louie set me up, wave your hand. C'mon, whaddya waitng for? I'm ready to set things right."

"Told you," Aiden, sing-songing under her breath.

"This ain't something I can do for you, Danny. You wanna give yourself up as a _living_, you gotta go have a little sit down with St. Peter over there," sweeping a bony hand towards the glare, "and then you can walk through the Big White Gate and make your amends."

-----------------

"Don, there's still no pulse," hands ricocheting from jugular to wrist, searching, "This isn't working," the chill settling deep, freezing hope.

"Where is that damn bus, we need paddles, now!" his bark hoarsened by the creeping sense of futility.

-----------------

"If I walk through how much time do I get?"

"An eternity."

"You mean like … in forever?"

"That's the deal, my son."

-----------------

"It's about damn time you guys got here, bring those paddles over here. It may already be too late but if there's a chance in heaven …"

-----------------

"But I don't need an eternity; I just need a few minutes."

"I'm just here to keep the rules, my son."

"How can I set things right if I can't even get him to see or hear me without ... without … spending an eternity?"

"Maybe you have it all backwards, about setting things right that is."

"But Louie said I ought to set things right."

"Yes, a worthy goal indeed, but did he perchance to say with whom?"

-----------------

"Clear!"

-----------------

_God forgive me … I know what I have to do to set things right … but the bell … it calls … trying to get through … but the glare …blinding … can't see to get through … _

-----------------

" Rogers, pitch the spotlight, higher, on his face, so I can get a read on his pupils."

"Done."

"Get that fuckin' light out of my eyes," hand flailing blindly but with determination, knocking aside probing hands and invasive glare.

"Ouch," the EMT, shielding his face with one hand, catching the spotlight with the other before it hits the pavement, "I'd say your man is going to be okay. We'll need to take him for overnight observation though, just to be safe. Rogers, bring the gurney."

"Danny, oh thank God. Don, he's come to," capturing the flailing hand, pressing it close to her heart, feeling the thaw, "Don't try to speak, just lay back and rest," bending over him the other hand fluttering to rest against his cheek.

"Eh, Messer, welcome back," Flack squatting, his wide grin shedding worry lines, "we thought you were gone for good."

"For good?" Struggling to sit up, panning the scene for concrete objects, mostly seeing blurs and shadows but reassured by the voices. "No, no, I had to come back … to make things right."

"Shush, plenty of time to talk later. The EMTs are going to take you in now."

"No, I have to say it now."

"Say what, Messer?" sidestepping to make room for the gurney, "That you've been an egotistical ass wrapped up in you own misplaced guilt?"

"No, yeah …" wishing for his glasses so he can make a positive id because it sounds like Flack, but, "but … but … how did you know?"

"It's what we've been saying all along, Messer, you just haven't been hearing us."

"Well, I'm hearing you now and I'm gonna make it up to both you even if it takes a lifetime," ending on a grimace as the EMTs shift him onto the gurney.

"With all the crap you've pulled, possibly costing me my career and Lindsay her life, I'd say it's gonna take you an eternity."

"Don't listen to him, Danny," squeezing his hand, dropping a humoring kiss to his forehead, "he's just ticked because he missed having an Irish Coffee with Angell tonight."

"No, no Flack's right, an eternity. I committed to an eternity."

"I'll hold you to that, Messer."

"No," grinning deliriously, unfocused eyes roaming, finger air-punching as the EMTs hoist the gurney into the bus, "St. Peter'll hold me to it," crowing to the closing doors.

"Don," relief slipping into her voice, "good thing St. Peter got through to him when he did."

Watching the white bus fade into the darkness, "Yep, or else we wouldn't have Messer back as a _living _again."

"And I couldn't live with that."

"Neither could I, Linds, neither could I," sliding his hand under her elbow, guiding, his smile inducing one of her own, "C'mon, let's get to the hospital before they order a psych eval for Messer."

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**A/N: **I'd like to say that partial inspiration for this piece came from **Aiden Among Us** by **Peanut2lb**.


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